Circumstances
by gophish1
Summary: Say perchance that...(stream of consciousness)
1. ARIES

Title: Circumstances

Author: gophish

Rating: PG-13

Classification: stream of consciousness, drama, angst

Summary:  Say perchance that…

Spoilers:  through "The Coup"

Disclaimer:  i don't own any of these characters, i only peer inside their complex minds…

Distribution:  just ask : elreeder@comcast.net

Feedback:  love it, want it

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **ARIES; the wind blew fierce as Sydney sat on the steps outside her house sipping Chai Tea cupped in both hands.**

you feel alone and helpless at times.   the more you sit here gazing up at the Los Angeles sky, the more you realize how isolated you truly are.  always been one to pride yourself on independence, _personal enthusiast, yet those in your life that know you know only the selective Sydney Bristow, the woman outside of the charm and charisma.  selective in placing those that know you in categorized segments of your personal life, and unwittingly thrust into balancing those whom you're familiar with and those you work with.  neither of these powerful forces coexist, leaving you trapped inside yourself, unsure of your own emotions.  __who__ needs emotions?  you wish that you could._

_open__ the door and walk inside.  the room is cold, crypt-like, with no one here to keep you company.  the music is still playing.  you set your tea on the counter and fumble towards the stereo.  no sense in changing it now.  __lay__ on the couch.  this time you gaze up at the ceiling thinking…_

_Sydney Bristow has always been a true inspiration to humanity._

think of those that have put you to the point where you are lying down on your lonely couch in your lonely house.  the sacrifices made and the tears that at times seemed endless.  lost in your boredom; you haven't been bored for quite some time.  _this__ is my grief for you, for only the loss of you, the hurting of you.  you wonder how cold it is in Boston.  wonder if it's snowing again.  seems like ages since you've seen snow.  those West Virginia winters._

you sit up as the music stops.  _10:28 pm.  wonder if you should go to bed, but think of how nice a glass of wine would be.  you've been working on the 1994 bottle of Ecco Domani for about a week.   a glass or two left.  make your way into the kitchen, open the cabinet, pour.  that first sip sends a spark through your body, a rush.  the room warms.  heading back to the couch you press play once again.  __i__ do think that women could make politics irrelevant…the phone rings.  "Hello?"_

"Hey, Syd. It's me." 


	2. TAURUS

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **TAURUS; the recent rain had resuscitated the small patch of grass outside of Michael's front window that so desperately needed quenching.**

you pull yourself up from your seat, coming away from the large bay window.  feel some strange sense of oneness with the grass outside during your moment of clarity as nature rejuvenated you both.  you feel complete, surprisingly so; you've always liked to comfort yourself through those things around you.  little subparts that have always reflected what you ultimately see as yourself.  

you walk past the flowers that have sat on the dresser for over a month with the little pink card.  _To __Sydney:__ Good work with the C-4's – Vaughn.  they have almost all wilted and died, yet you remain confident in your decision to leave them where they are.  sit on the bed, looking over at the phone.  countless times you've almost picked up that phone and made that call; sometimes you pressed a few numbers.  __hang__ up.  countless times you've wanted to take her up on it.  __it's__ better that you not.  decide to go for a run, so you undress…_

_the__ air is brisk as it fills your lungs.  you think and you run and you think and you run and you think __you should let go of your possessiveness and you think and you run and you think and you run and you think __she wants so much for you to let her in and you think and you run and you think and you STOP near a small tree to rest before turning back.  the route you know well, although not your normal one.  you look over at the skyline and then down at your watch. __1:23 pm.  start again, not thinking  about anything this time as you run and you run and you run and you breathe and you run and you run and you run and you run and you breathe and you run and you run and you arrive at your door._

step inside and notice the flash of red light blinking from the corner.  _ignore__ it.  you walk past, numb to who it was and why.  throw your keys by the dried foliage as you move toward the shower, unaware of the pink card that falls to the ground.   _


	3. GEMINI

Say perchance that:  
  


The moon was in **GEMINI; inside his secluded office space, Marshall tinkered with his toys, combining wires and tightening screws.**

you are meticulous.  pre-destined to fiddle with gadgets, communicate through tiny square boxes disguised as broaches, watches, earrings, pens, whatever the event should permit.  well, you don't communicate.  you could only hope to communicate.  communicating's not your thing.  _When I was young.  you follow orders yet somehow manage to maintain the creative spark.  such a sterile environment; housing special agents in designer suits.  you wear stripes.  sometimes plaid.  __I never needed anyone._

you sit on the floor like a toddler, legs crossed Indian-style.  agents walking here and there; everywhere  but where you are.  outside, heads passing in front of the window above.  the door opens and you look up from your masterpiece-in-progress.

"Things have changed."  Sloane.  _And making love was just for fun.  "I need you to go back to the original one."  a file flies from his hands onto the pile of others that were of lesser importance, and with that, he closes the door behind him…_

return to work, diverting your attention back to the task at hand, until Dixon taps on the glass.  look up, smile, wave, look back down.  interruptions aren't something you're use to, in fact they annoy you; precisely why you don't have friends.  well, you're not completely hopeless; you've got 2 friends.  _Those days are gone._

you finish at _12:12 pm.  just in time to work on your turkey sandwich; what is it about turkey sandwiches?  you love them; the way you know exactly how much mustard to use.  you'll eat it on the floor like you usually do; sandwich on a piece of paper, chips in your lap, Tab up on the desk to prevent you from having too much caffeine.  __All by myself!!  Don't wanna be…   you can't wait to get to the Little Debbie._


	4. CANCER

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **CANCER; the hotel room in Boston where Will was staying was cheap, nothing like the places he imagined Sydney to stay.**

you are a kindred soul; considerate, helpful.  you forgive when there isn't anything to be forgiven.  you've perfected the rock-hard psychological shell that protects you from the rigors of life.  sit in the little wooden chair at the little wooden table next to the window, writing.  you are always writing.  even when you're talking, you're writing;  little interruptions that go on in your head.  _The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life. -- C. S. Lewis.  _

you know that you'll call her.  already got the script.  timing, however, is what is key.  you like things in order, however haphazardly abstract.  confident in your ability to handle relationships with women.  you're a man; emotions are supposed to be bottled up, but somehow it's difficult to do that.  besides, you like your emotions; they've made a happy home hanging on your sleeve.  _If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to treat everything as if it were a nail. -- Abraham Maslow.   reach into your briefcase, pull out your black book of phone numbers.  of course you know her number, but prefer looking it up all the same; it adds just a few extra minutes of pacing._

stare at her name: _Syd__ 555-3841.  decide to make some coffee.  little packages of Folgers and non-dairy creamer have been put into tiny Styrofoam cups covered in plastic.  you go through the motions, putting in the grounds, adding the water, turning it on.  sit back at your make-shift desk by the window, stare as the coffee drips in the pot.  __There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum. --__ Arthur C. Clarke.  it's finished.  you pour, you sip, you spit it out.  horrible. _

you think what she must be doing, alone in L.A.  the digital clock by the bed is mounted to the table it sits upon.  _1:28 am.  go over to the phone.  __What is mind?  No matter.  What is matter?  Never mind. – George Berkeley.  "Hello?"_

"Hey, Syd.  It's me." 


	5. LEO

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **LEO; at an open cubicle in a noisy room, Marcus gets off the phone with his wife and goes back to working on the computer program he was assigned.**

you're a family man, unlike most family men.  the secrets you keep from you wife, frustrate you if you let them.  _it's__ best not to think about.  you're a proud one, Marcus Dixon.  everything you do has some meaning to you or someone else. you serve your wife, you love your wife, you serve your country, you love your country; two separate entities.  what it is you do for your country is something that most people only watch on television.  _

you have fond memories of your life before SD-6, before the CIA, the Marcus Dixon that was so fond of computers.  the task in front of you would have been a breeze back when you were twenty-two.  _computer__ programming is so boring.  you hate the days that Sydney isn't here, those days you aren't rushing off to save someone from something.  missions have become your passion.  you see agents walking, talking, gathering research.  you sit at your desk.  twiddling with a couple of computer keys and a flashing curser; you feel like Marshall.  _

opening a box of animal crackers, you softly laugh out loud at their ridiculousness.  _you're__ thirsty.  the machine is down the corridor, but you'll hold off.  there's likely a crowd of people.  although you enjoy the company of others, bask in the adoration and respect they give to you, you decide to wait.  however, after taking an elephant, a rhinoceros, and finally a giraffe, it's time for a soda.  __here__ we go.  you get up from your desk, wiping the animal crumbs from your tie.  __12:06 pm.  on your way, you glare in on Marshall sitting on the floor of his little workshop.  you're compelled to knock on the glass.  he looks up, you wave, he looks down, you walk away.  _

surprisingly, there isn't a single person.  you reach into your pocket, no change; take a dollar from your wallet, put it in the acceptor, and press the Sprite key.  _spoke__ too soon.  five people walk in, all laughing and saying their hellos to you.  grab your change, your Sprite, and leave, smiling to the happy workers as you pass._

you make it back to your desk, open the can.  _have__ another animal cracker.  this time it's a seal, your wife's favorite.  you look over to the small picture on your desk.  the one the two of you had done four months ago to send family members in Christmas cards.  you pick up the keyboard and think:  __this is all worth it._


	6. VIRGO

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **VIRGO; the doors flew open, Anna Espinosa entered the Banco Finatia in Portugal with a cocked eyebrow and a determined smirk.**

you lick your lips.  the whole place is scanned, every point accounted for.  step across the marble tiled floor; the clicking of you heels against it spark confidence in your stride.  pick the young woman to your left sitting at her desk.  "Tarde boa, que posso eu fazer para você?"  _Good afternoon, what may I do for you?  stare her in the eye for just a moment, savoring her naivety.  "Sim.  Eu necessito começar na caixa número 919, por favor."  __Yes.  I need to get into box number 919, please.  you hand her identification…name: Christina Valicepio, race: Caucásico, birth: 9-16-61, address: 7294 San Vicente Ferrer, Madrid, Spain, hair: blonde, height: 1.75 m, weight: 70 kg.  "Chave?" __Key? you pull out the card from your wallet and hand it to her.  "Siga-me, por favor."  __Follow me, please._

walk directly behind her as you enter the safe.  the camera hovering overhead focuses on you; you wink as you pass.  you can only hope to have Sydney see the tape when she arrives.  914, 915, 916, 917, 918, 919…the woman places her key inside the slot, she waits for you to do the same.  "Obrigado Ms. Valicepio.  Eu estarei esperando fora."  _Thank you Ms. Valicepio.  I'll be waiting outside.  _

the case opens with ease, unopened for years, you're sure of it.  inside, a solitary slip of paper with the writing: German, a wax-green seal.  you remove the slip and place it tightly in your purse, remove the key and slide the case back into position, turn the knob and exit the safe.  "Obrigado.  Tenha um dia encantador."  _Thank you.  Have a lovely day.  _

you look up at the camera again as you begin to leave, this time waving your fingers, specifically for SD-6; you now have what they wanted. you glance at the large clock. _3:56 pm.  walk outside into the Portuguese sun, the bustle of pedestrians annoys you.  you hail a taxi.  __get__ in.  although you know it's there, you don't turn around to admire the cloud of smoke billowing up behind you. _


	7. LIBRA

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **LIBRA; at a quiet, low-key bar in Long Beach, Jack sits at a small circular table, Hennessey cupped in both hands.**

you're a lonely man, Jack Bristow.  you're happier when alone, more comfortable by yourself.  you drive the extra forty minutes to come to a bar where you're unlikely to run into an acquaintance.  _your heart:__ boom-boom.  sipping on your cognac, staring at everyone else, you think.  the lights strung beside the bar are interesting, blue, dim; the waitress must enjoy her job.  you think about SD-6.  __boom-boom.  you make good money to keep the secrets you do, retain your knowledge, maintain your alliance.  in a disturbing way, you actually feel that what you do does benefit humanity. __boom-boom._

as the attractive red-head walks by, you lift your index finger, requesting another.  you watch her every move as she returns to the bartender, glances back over her shoulder, realizes you're watching her, turns back around.  _boom-boom.  she must feel sorry for you.  the way you come in here ever-so-often, avoiding Sydney.  _

she returns, sets the sniffer on the table.  _boom-boom.  she smiles sympathetically and leaves.  Sydney.  __boom-boom.  Ah, Sydney.  how you wish things were different; how you're glad things are the same.  __boom-boom.  you wish.  you sip.  those days when the two of you knew each other.  __boom-boom.  well, you never really knew each other, but she thought you did. __ boom-boom.  those pre-adolescent years, when everything was fair and just.  __boom-boom.  those pictures were taken.  __boom-boom__ boom-boom.  she trusted you as her father.  __boom-boom.  you treated her as a daughter. __boom-boom __boom-boom__ boom-boom.  _

Now it's just you, peering out from your lonely oblivion at an unfamiliar woman.  _boom-boom__ boom-boom.  you sip. __boom-boom.  you look up again at the blue light at the bar.  __boom-boom.  blue.  an adequate color.  you think about going home.  cold, lonely, depressing home.  __boom-boom.  maybe you should go; you much prefer it here.  you sip.  what was this place called again?  no matter.  the man at the piano is playing "Canadian Jazz".  __boom-boom.  you snicker to yourself; Canadian jazz?  __11:43  pm. you sip, this time finishing it off.  __boom-boom.  your heart at a normal pace, you gather your things and throw down a fifty.        _


	8. SCORPIO

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **SCORPIO; from his desk inside SD-6, Arvin could see all of his minions, diligent and productive.**

you're callous.  heartless.  unremorseful.  those who work for you are blinded in believing that you uphold truth and honor.  respectful drones.  _expendability.  you're jealous of their selfless dedication. __enviable.  a man with your knowledge conceals his emotions with the utmost control.  think back on the selective times that you've cried; those memories seem washed away with the tears.  _

your love for the few that you hold close has shrouded the superficial skin that you've made so thick, tough.  _impenetrable.  you notice how different things are outside your window when Sydney isn't around.  the bustle seems slower, the talking, less.  the files next to your computer have been finished for an hour now.  clean the finger-print-pad, wipe down the phone, blow the dust from your computer screen.  __organizational.  your resourcefulness causes you to open up the top file again.  your notes seems messy.  decide to do the whole thing again, from the beginning.  your mind wanders to those days back in Brooklyn.  when people knew you as strictly "Arvin", although you preferred "Sloane"; there was a time when you used to pace that street over and over, sometimes until nightfall.  __memorable.  _

finishing for the second time, you get up from you desk, walk through the glass door, down the steps, pass Dixon, persistently working on the Pieshoni computer program.  you enter Marshall's office.  _unfathomable.  you fight back a sour face as you notice the candy wrappers, empty Tab cans, the odor.  you decide to make this quick.  he looks up from the floor with an innocent smile.  "Things have changed." __uncomfortable.  "I need you to go back to the original one." the file flies from you hands onto the stack of others, you turn, leave, close the door behind you.  __sigh._

you start back towards your office.  _11:59 am.  back inside, you assume your position on your back leather throne.  you bring up your elbows, place them on your desk, cross your fingers, glare back out.  __credible.  satisfied with yourself, you close you eyes, returning to thoughts of Sydney's absence.     _


	9. SAGITTARIUS

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **SAGITTARIUS; the water from the soaked towel squished between Michael's toes as he pressed down.**

you feel uninhibited as you leave your fogged bathroom; wrap the towel around your waist and go into the other room.  dripping wet, you see the blinking red light again.  _you__ don't want to know.  sit on the edge of your couch and stare at it.  __blink__………blink.  you want to be entertained, you're scared, you love being entertained, you're petrified it's Sydney.  you stare.  __press__ it.  _

you almost do, but instead you stand up and go into the bedroom.  drop the towel, get dressed, go back in.  _blink__………blink.  you rub your fingers through your wet hair.  __press__ it.  you don't.  walk to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, take out the bottle of water, unscrew the cap, drink, recap, put it back, close the door.  glimpse over.  __blink__………blink.  you walk back over, basking in your own absurdity.  it doesn't matter who it is; no one should be this afraid of a message.  __press__ it.  decide to close the blinds.  __blink__………blink.  the newly darkened room intensifies the flashes of red. __ press it.       _

 the mechanical voice begins:  _MESSAGE SENT……FRIDAY……AT………__ONE THIRTY__…TWO……PM : __Vaughn, hey it's Weiss.  Look bro, sorry to do this to you, but we're going to have to have you back over here.  Something's happened in __Portugal__, pretty big.  Anyway, sorry again.  See you soon………END OF MESSAGES……beep._

_Dammit!  you go back into the bedroom, sit at the end of the bed.  look over at the flowers, notice the pink card on the ground.  stand up, go over, reach down.  open the flap, read the inscription.  look back up at the two-inch stagnant yellow water they're sitting in.  you feel relieved that it wasn't Sydney, disappointed really.  __back__ to being her handler.  crumble the card in your hand, throw it down, grab your jacket from the bed post; leave._


	10. CAPRICORN

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **CAPRICORN; the porch Francie sat on wrapped all the way around the left side of her parent's country-style home. **

you hate it here.  the style, the color, the feel, the look, everything about this place somehow pushes your buttons.  you have never understood your mother's insecurities.  your father leaves town, she's alone, she calls you, you end up traveling hundreds of miles, spending a few days with her, assuring her that he'll return safely.  _you__ need assuring.  you look out into the yard; the dog's house is an exact replica of this house; down to the brown trim.  you roll your eyes, lean back._

_Will you marry me?  how nice.  Charlie.  that stupid, stupid man.  in a way, you're glad you've come here; it gives you time away from the drama.  __you__ miss him.  he was supposed to be the one.  you look up at the stars, wondering who it is out there that actually is.  how clichéd you feel, you've resorted to looking up at the stars for help.  tears start to well up in your eyes, fusing the sky into one white blur.  wipe you eyes.  your tears become more intense.  __what__ is he doing?  you sit there, hunched over, crying._

you feel so helpless.  hundreds of miles away from anything resembling your normal life.  the façade you put on while with your mother sickens you.  _I'm fine, really.  you stop crying briefly.  you revel in the fact that you'll be home in two days and will have Sydney there for the weekend to keep you company.  __really__ mom, I'm doing good.  _

it's _1:03 am and your mother has been in bed for over an hour; you've been on this porch for two.  you think of L.A.  __Charlie.  you fight back tears.  Francie Calfo, you're stronger than this; you can't sit out here on this ugly porch until dawn crying like this.  __this__ isn't your fault, this isn't, this isn't happening, this isn't.  tears again; down your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away.  you swallow, stand up, stretch, bend over, stop crying, your chin quivers.  you squeeze your hands down into your pockets, look up at the stars, call it a night, and go inside.  __you're__ fine.              _


	11. AQUARIUS

Say perchance that:  
  


The moon was in **AQUARIUS; the evening of wine drinking and intellectual conversation with Will had left Sydney feeling all but energetic the following day. **

you straighten the magazines on your table, staking them two, maybe three on top of each other.  look over to notice that the stereo had been left on.  _drunken__ stupor.  change the CD and go into the kitchen to put the dishes away.  smile at Francie's coffee cup in the sink: __GODDESS in sparkling silver letters.  you finish and start to walk back into the living room…the phone rings.  "Hello?"_

"Joey's Pizza" click.

_sit__ the phone down.  going now would be best.  satisfied with the house thoroughly straightened, you grab your keys, lock the door in three places, head for your car, and drive.  your car could use a clean-up.  __2:15 pm__ on the dash.  __how__ you come when you're called, Sydney Bristow.  pull into the drugstore, counting the cars, wondering which one was Vaughn's.  how ridiculous.  you go inside, down the toothpaste aisle, you bend down; behind you, Vaughn, holding a bottle of mouthwash.  "The green kind's better."_

"Syd, K Directorate has blown up the Banco Finatia in Portugal."  _cut__ to the chase - makes the uncomfortable chatter  less necessary.  _

"Why would they want to do that?"  you shrug your shoulders, turning around completely.  

"A safe-deposit box in Banco Finatia, we've recently learned, housed vital intel on K Directorate's international constituents.  We have reason to believe they found out about our knowledge, blew up all traces of it's existence, and plan on depositing it at some other unknown location."  his voice jumped at the end of his sentences.  _look__ him in the eye. "Syd, we need to get that intel.  Before it gets lost for another half-century."_

you look back down at your toothpaste.  Colgate; good stuff.  "We're off to Portugal then?"  your voice jumped at the end; you clear your throat.

"Look.  I know you had the weekend off or whatever.  I'm sorry.  This is just a perfect time to do this with virtually no risk of SD-6 finding out you were gone."  _you__ want to go.  _

"No really, it's ok.  I've actually been bored at my place, believe it or not."  you let out a reassuring chuckle; toothpaste in hand, you rise, "I, um, I….need to actually get this.  The airport then?  I need to swing home first, leave Franice a note.  Meet there?" Vaughn nods, you turn away from him as you go to the register, pay, and leave.

holding the pen to the paper, you think how much Francie will need someone to talk to when she gets back.  you can get back on Sunday night if all goes well, right?  of course.  _FRANCIE:  I'M SO SO SORRY I HAVE TO LEAVE.  THE BANK HAS THIS THING I'VE GOT TO DO.  HOPE MOM WASN'T TOO UNBEARABLE.  LET'S HAVE DINNER WHEN I GET BACK.  LOVE YOU, Sydney.  _


	12. PISCES

Say perchance that:

The moon was in **PISCES; Sydney and Michael step off the plane separately at the Lisbon airport, night swiftly falling.**

you meet up with her outside the restrooms near GATE 15.  _4:55 pm.  K Directorate has had over twenty four hours already.  you were determined to remain focused, diverting your attention from the way Sydney walked as she approached you.  __irresistible.  "You look nice".  __diversion.  you start walking with her.  "We need to get to a fishing village near Sesimbra.   Sources say it's where Anna Espinosa went after leaving the Banco Finatia.  We can take a cab." _

it's nice to be with him; peculiar, seeing him outside a suit.  _handsome__, nonetheless.  you begin walking towards where shuttles and taxis wait; you follow his lead.  he hails one, throws your bag in, his bag, you get in after him, closing the door behind you.  _

"Sesimbra, por favor."  uncomfortable silence looms within the backseat, you both stare out opposite windows.  you think how spectacular the Portuguese coast is; dusk beginning to turn to dark.  how nice it is that she is here with you, how you wanted to say so much more in that drugstore back in L.A., but just couldn't, how you'd noticed her clever joke as she arrived about the mouthwash, how you pretended to ignore it.  

you arrive at the first dock outside a fish house in Sesimbra.  he wastes no time in getting out.  "Espera aqui, por favor?" _Wait here, please?  you join Vaughn outside, he directs you to another smaller house with several boats docked near the rear.  the tiny houses are low enough to the ground as to allow you to climb on the roof.  he lifts you up, initiating the planned scenario you read while on the plane.  go over to the opened vents near the center, peer down inside, and signal back to Vaughn with a simple wave in the air.  there she is.  Anna Espinosa, talking to three other men, huddled around a wooden table; you can't make out what they're saying. __ no matter.  _

around front, you look inside.  _two__ more than you expected.  you trust Sydney has already discovered this.  give the door a forceful knock twice, then duck behind it to remain hidden from whomever opened it.  _

you watch as the four of them gather what they are doing; Anna slipping something into a black bag, one walking over towards the door, the other two following Anna outside a back exit onto the deck.  _c'mon c'mon…_

the door opens.  a large man, middle eastern descent, gun in hand, steps outside the frame and looks around behind the door.  you crack his nose immediately, throwing him to the ground.  _shake__ it off.  you kick him, again, a blow to the face, rendering him unconscious, grab his gun, run inside; Sydney falls from the vent above, directly in front of Anna and her accomplices.  _

you make eye contact with Anna; she always seems to smile in your presence.  _the__ thrill of it all.    she immediately heads towards one of the boats, while the two men rush you and Vaughn.  you kick the gun from his hand, it flies next to a stack of empty crates, a side kick to his diaphragm, causes him to lunge forward, you knee him in the chin as he begins to fall._

you notice Anna trying slip out near the dock.  you raise your gun, _Sydney__ is preoccupied, the other man hurls his fist into your side, you loose the gun.  you quickly rebound a thrust punch into his stomach and throw back your elbow into the side of his skull.  __grab__ the gun.  you pick it up by the barrel, drilling the handle into the back of your assailants head.  "Sydney! Anna!"  she takes off towards her, you continue, finishing off her attacker._

Anna jumps into the boat, the engine starts, revs, she keeps her head turned back watching you approach.  you reach the edge of the dock, it begins to move away, you leap into where Anna is standing; you see the black bag.  you drift further away from shore as you pull yourself up from the fall.  she kicks you back down, takes control of the boat; it speeds up, water everywhere.  _get__ up, __Sydney.  you grab hold of two brass beams, trying to keep balance as you thrash against the waves.  she turns sharp to the right; you fly across the deck to the left, almost thrown out.  __she's__ trying to throw you out.  you remain close to the floor, crawling, making your way towards her, as she kicks at you, still steering the craft on its turbulent course.  you grab her foot as she tries to pin you down with her heel, pulling her away from the controls; the boat slows down, nearly halts, several hundred feet from shore.  you rise up as she jumps on top of you, securing your fists with her thighs.  she knocks you in the right jaw, the left jaw.  __nothing.  right jaw, left jaw.  __nothing.  right jaw, left jaw.  __taste__ of blood.  you relax to distract her.  she gets off you and heads toward the bag.  you quickly get up, grab onto her from behind and attempt to throw her out; she's caught on the brass beaming.  you straddle above her, elbowing her temple, upper-cutting her with your fist.  she opens her eyes, and with a quaint smile you wrap your fingers around the top of her ankle, tossing her overboard, into the water.  you take control of the boat, steering it back to shore.  pulling up to the dock, you reach over to get the bag, jump off just as the boat rams into the poorly constructed tiny house.  Vaughn is waiting, eager, anticipating.  "I got it. C'mon."  _

the two of you run back towards the taxi.  she throws the bag inside from her door, you both get in.  as the taxi pulls away, you look over at her, her breathing heavy, yours too.

there is a limited number of remaining flights back to the states the same night, forcing you to take two separate planes.  _8:20 pm.  she left twenty-six minutes ago, you don't leave for another forty-two.  you sit, waiting in a stiff metal chair in Lisbon, GATE 12.  think about those flowers sitting atop your dresser at home, dead; you should get some fresh ones for her…maybe you will._

**_~END~  _**

****

A/N : footnotes, in case you missed it: ARIES: Sydney was listening to "Universal Mother" by Sinead O'Connor, GEMINI: Marshall's internal symphony was Eric Carmen's "All By Myself", LIBRA: Canadian Jazz refers to Jack's homeland, and PISCES: I am very aware that J.J. Abrams made Will Tippin a Pisces, and for good reason, however, right, ok, so there.  Thanks to my beautiful and talented beta, Hillary.  Without her, I wouldn't even write fic.


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